Chapter 86: Preparation(1)
Chapter 86: Preparation(1)
After watching the scenery outside the window for a while, I consulted with my father and mother the next day. I suggested that, since things had turned out this way, we should designate the Maishal Territory as a "Cultural City."
I expressed my opinion that if we decorated the place beautifully—based solely on the fact that a famous figure was born here, much like Kim Kwang-seok Street back in my previous life—the estate would surely see significant development.
Of course, I wasn't without concerns regarding the potential fallout. However, my plan was to keep the birthplace as it was while ensuring my actual residence remained a secret.
I told them that even if people investigated, there would be no repercussions, and even if my identity were discovered, I could handle it as long as I was smooth enough with my tongue.
Having personally witnessed the once-quiet estate undergo such visible growth, a bit of greed had inevitably crept in. Still, I believed my argument was persuasive enough to be viable.
And my parents' reaction to my proposal was...
"Hmm..."
"The intention is good, but..."
Their reactions were ambiguous. I expected as much from my father, who was a deep thinker, but it was surprising that even my mother didn't immediately agree.
When I asked if there were significant political issues, my mother looked at my father without a word. My father, who had been stroking his chin in thought for a while, looked at me with deep, hollow eyes.
"Isaac."
"Yes, Father."
"What you've proposed is certainly a wonderful thing for both you and our territory. We could accelerate our development and maximize the tourism effect. Perhaps the exhibition venue could even be permanently fixed here."
Actually, that last part was my primary goal. I didn't want to have to travel all over the place; I wanted the exhibitions to be held in our territory at regular intervals.
It wasn't that I would forcibly demand they only be held here. Artists would still be free to reveal their works as they pleased until the exhibition. The point of the exhibition was simply to provide a place where artists scattered across the world could gather and showcase their work together.
Of course, this was contingent on my work maintaining its popularity, but given the current situation, the chances of that fading were slim.
When I looked at my father with an expression asking why he was being so skeptical, he gave a bitter smile and continued quietly.
"But that's a short-sighted view. Looking further ahead, there are many unsettling factors."
"Unsettling factors?"
"Yes. First of all, serving as a knight of this country has taught me a few things. To start with, our Empire is far too greedy. As you know, the Empire is constantly looking for an opportunity to seize the Kingdom of Tayros."
My father raised his index finger and spoke in a heavy voice. I couldn't help but tilt my head at his words.
I was well aware of the Minerva Empire's hunger for culture. They were striving to solidify their global hegemony by swallowing the Kingdom of Tayros based on the culture they had absorbed.
Their military and economic power had already been raised as high as possible, and they had built a solid internal foundation through centuries of history. It was only natural for them to turn their eyes toward neighboring countries.
On the other hand, they could never touch the Holy Nation 'Savior' due to religious issues, and the merchant kingdom of Bellua was far too distant. Other regions were established by different races, making them difficult to deal with recklessly.
Therefore, they prioritized the Kingdom of Tayros, a fellow human nation and their arch-rival since the Race War. However, I couldn't see how turning the Maishal Territory into a cultural city related to that.
"I know that. But if I ask them not to use it politically, wouldn't the Empire stop?"
"They might for now, but do you think that will still be the case a hundred years from now?"
"Pardon?"
"I'm asking if you think the Empire will stay quiet even after you're gone."
I blinked at my father's rebuttal. Perhaps I was being dense, but it was difficult to grasp his point.
Reading my thoughts through my expression, my father began to explain with a serious face.
"Isaac. The true power of culture lies in the fact that it isn't short-term; it continues steadily through future generations. Even after you die, your works, including the Xenon Chronicle, will establish themselves as a culture. And if your identity is revealed, our territory could become exactly what you described."
"So, you're saying now isn't the right time?"
"That's part of it, but I should say you were born in the wrong era. Ironically so."
"What?"
What did that mean? Born in the wrong era, of all reasons.
As I showed a reaction mixed with confusion and absurdity, my father smiled bitterly.
"Once you pass away, the value of your works will naturally skyrocket. And the Empire won't miss that chance. They might intentionally let the Kingdom of Tayros 'steal' your original manuscripts to create a pretext for invasion, or in the worst-case scenario, they could burn them all and frame the other side."
"... ..."
"Even now, the Imperial Family is threatening to exterminate three generations of anyone caught stealing the manuscripts. What if the manuscripts disappeared entirely? It wouldn't be strange for a war to break out immediately. That's how immense your cultural value is."
It was then that I realized once again that this world was essentially the Middle Ages. A world where the common sense of my previous life hardly applied—a socially backward world.
For example, in my previous life, suppose a country insulted J.K. Rowling's masterpiece, the Harry Potter series, and went as far as burning all the original manuscripts. While many people around the world, including the British, would be furious, the governments of each country would likely stop at issuing statements of condemnation.
If that's still hard to understand, China serves as an excellent(?) example. No matter how much nonsense China pulls, the victimized country can only issue a statement of criticism; they don't directly declare war.
Of course, this is partly because China is so powerful, but one only needs to remember that even the United States couldn't use military force recklessly. China, likewise, cannot use force without a justifiable reason.
In such highly developed civilizations, it is difficult even to draw a sword.
'It really is the Middle Ages.'
However, this was a fantasy world with a medieval setting. A place where honor was valued more than life, and where people unhesitatingly committed acts that a person from Earth would consider truly barbaric.
It wouldn't be strange for a war to erupt over a trivial pretext.
The moment my manuscripts were burned by another country, they wouldn't just be criticized; they would face a declaration of war. And after that, they would naturally face destruction.
As my father explained, war wouldn't break out as long as I was alive and well, but the problem was after my death. Human greed is endless; it wouldn't be strange for them to commit atrocities using my work.
Though seventeen years had passed since I was reincarnated into this world, its common sense was still difficult to accept.
"...I understand. Hearing your words, Father, I see there are many problems."
"Isaac. You don't have to be too disappointed. Your father's words are just a prediction, not a certainty. The time you want might come someday."
As I grew dejected, my mother comforted me. Hearing her kind words made me feel a bit better, but the lingering regret remained.
The thought that a plan I had proposed with rare enthusiasm could potentially trigger a butterfly effect was terrifying. My father hadn't said I was born in the wrong era for nothing.
My father watched me for a moment before speaking in a gentle tone.
"It's only natural to feel greedy like you do when visible results appear. It's a normal reaction. But right now, it feels a bit premature."
"...I suppose so."
"I'm not saying don't do it at all. I'm merely giving you advice, not forcing a choice. If you have the confidence to take responsibility, I will gladly support you."
My father always spoke the truth. Having been a soldier active on the front lines, he surely knew more than I did.
Above all, my father was someone born and raised in this world. His perspective was bound to differ in many ways from mine, as I still had the common sense of my previous life deeply rooted within me.
'It's not like the era is going to advance overnight...'
How could I prevent my work from being used politically? There was no problem for now since I was alive, but the future was the issue.
Like everyone else, no parent wants to leave a terrible future for their children. I would eventually marry and have children too, and I couldn't pass down such a future to them.
What if the cause of that future was directly related to me? The mere thought was horrific.
'There's still plenty of time. It's better to think it over slowly.'
I had almost been blinded by greed. I shouldn't have applied the common sense of my previous life to this world; I had overlooked even the most basic aspects.
I decided to postpone developing our territory into a cultural city for later and looked at my parents. Both were waiting patiently for me to speak.
"...Still, it's hard to let go of the greed."
My father chuckled, seemingly agreeing with my words as I spoke with an embarrassed smile.
"If you're born a man, you should have at least that much ambition. Honor is something precious that cannot be measured even with money. Though, you might eventually find something more precious than that honor."
"Oh, you."
My father slyly touched my mother's hand, acting playfully. My mother blushed but leaned her head against my father's sturdy shoulder.
I had watched them like this for over ten years, but I still couldn't get used to it. If anything, their passion was still burning like an active volcano, showing no signs of cooling down.
'Did he retire not because military life was hard, but because he wanted to be with Mother?'
I became genuinely curious about their love story.
In any case, my greed-filled plan was put on hold, but the preparations for the exhibition proceeded without a hitch. Thanks to the full support of the Imperial Family, the territory was transforming in real-time, day by day.
That didn't mean our family's lifestyle changed. I sent letters to the publisher, and my parents were breaking a sweat handling the flood of approval documents.
Of course, it wasn't that there were no changes at all.
"Hello! My little cutie!"
"Huh? Big sister Adel? Are you coming to the exhibition too?"
"Of course! How could I miss something like this?"
Nicole, who was expected to be at the Academy during the break, entered the mansion along with Adelia.
Nicole was family, so that was one thing, but I hadn't expected her to invite Adelia to the mansion as well.
"Actually, I also came to see my little cutie..."
"Stop talking nonsense and let me show you to your room first."
"Aww~ Why~ I want to talk to our Isaac a bit more."
"What are you trying to pull with a kid who already has a girlfriend? Just follow me."
And so, Adelia was dragged away by Nicole. Seeing her wave brightly and say she'd see me later even as she was being dragged off, I could only think that she hadn't changed a bit.
'They must be really close.'
Nicole had never invited anyone to the house before. Part of it was likely because she was busy working as a martial arts assistant instructor, but also because our territory was quite unremarkable.
However, with the exhibition being held, it seemed Adelia had come out of curiosity. She probably asked Nicole to invite her. I didn't see it happen, but knowing Adelia, I could easily imagine it.
'I wonder what other guests will show up?'
Originally, there was news about which figures from various countries would attend, but after I spoke up, all that information vanished. So, I didn't know exactly who was coming.
'Well, I think I can guess a few.'
And sure enough.
"Isaac~"
The day before the exhibition began, Mari visited our mansion. It wasn't a surprise visit; she had sent a letter, so I was able to welcome her.
"Hello. I am Sarah Hausen Rekilis, the lady of the Duke Rekilis household. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"I am Kay Hausen Rekilis, the eldest son of the Duke Rekilis household. It's a pleasure to meet you."
And it wasn't just Mari; her mother and brother had come along as well. I had met her brother once before, but this was the first time meeting Sarah.
Sarah was a beauty with brown hair and brown eyes, and I could tell at a glance where Mari's looks came from—they were spitting images of each other. She exuded an elegant yet modest aura, much like my mother, giving off a sense of dignity.
'...But the exhibition opens tomorrow?'
As I greeted them according to etiquette, I couldn't help but have that question. Unless they had gotten the time wrong...
"I'm sorry, Isaac. I 'mistook' the date and arrived a day early."
"... ..."
"Could we stay here for just today?"
I looked at the beaming Mari and then glanced behind her.
Her mother, Sarah, was wearing a smile just as bright as Mari's, while Kay was shaking his head.
'She's getting more and more sly.'
But what could I do? I gave a bitter smile, as if reluctantly accepting.
"Alright."
The exhibition was right around the corner.
*
Meanwhile, around the same time in Albenheim...
"Understood, Rain? You must not cause any trouble this time."
"I know, Your Majesty. I won't cause any trouble."
"Good. Let us go quickly. We must hurry before the Elder Council finds out."
Two elves vanished somewhere through a teleport.
"What should I wear? I showed him this one last time, so I should wear something else... Should I go with this?"
"Rather than that, this one..."
"Is there nothing else besides these?"
In Helium, Cecile was frantic, trying to choose a dress.
'What should I wear to catch his eye?'
With Isaac on her mind.